I Don't Believe You
by Kassandra Black
Summary: Dr. Emma Carter joins the team as Isles' new assistant. After meeting Frankie, her seemingly perfect world is turned upside down. Fluff with little plot! Frankie/OC
1. Chapter 1

**AN: Okay, I just watched a marathon of the third season of Rizzoli and Isles and fell in love with it! This story immediately popped into my head when I realized Frankie needed some more lovin' in the ff world. As the summary states, this is basically a fluff piece with little plot.**

**I apologize in advance for any mistakes in the lore. I haven't watched the first two seasons so I'm lacking some info.**

**Also, a big THANK YOU to quantumparadigm who pretty much encouraged me to upload this!**

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Emma Carter lugged her carry-on through the terminal and down to the luggage station. It had been a long flight, coupled by a few nights of little to no sleep, and she was tired. All she wanted was a nice, hot bath and a nice, cold beer. But, unfortunately, those two were on the backburner for now.

Heading to her new job was at the top of the list, and even her exhaustion couldn't put a damper on her excitement. She still couldn't believe _the_Dr. Maura Isles had accepted her request for fellowship, and Emma was more than ready to begin this new venture in her life. Even if it meant putting aside her own personal comfort for the moment.

Which brought about the second item on her mental list. Settling into her new apartment. Her two older brothers had offered to drive the U-Haul truck filled with all her possessions to her new place in Boston. It would've been too long a drive for her, and she hadn't wanted to prolong her trip any longer than she had to. Of course that also meant that her stuff would be arriving three days later, but she figured she could survive sleeping on the floor.

She blew away a few strands of her long, blonde hair as she grabbed her bags. Her luggage seemed to be intact, and Emma was grateful that at least her clothes had made the trip safely with her. She struggled slightly as she made her way out to catch a cab but was stopped short by a police officer.

"Dr. Emma Carter?" he asked, dark eyebrows raised in question.

"Yes, how did you..."

He held up a picture of her dressed in her graduation garb. She recognized it as part of an announcement her father had placed in the newspaper right after she had finished medical school.

"I was sent to pick you up."

"Ah," she said, giving him an understanding look. "I guess you pulled the short straw?"

"Not exactly," he said, brown eyes lighting up in a smile as he reached for her bags. "Dr. Isles asked me to do it as a favor."

"Well, that was nice of her," Emma said, following him to a nearby vehicle. "I hope it's not an inconvenience. I'm sure you have better things to do...like saving the city from evil bank robbers or something."

He snorted in amusement. "More like giving out speeding tickets," he replied. He stuffed her luggage in the trunk of his car before walking over to the passenger door and opening it for her. "Besides, I'd take picking up beautiful women at the airport than giving out tickets any day." He saw the look of surprise on her face, and then backtracked. "I'm sorry...I shouldn't have said that. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

"What? No, it's not that," she quickly replied. Weirdly enough, it was what he _did_rather than what he said that had gotten her attention. "I'm just not used to having guys open the door for me. Also, I usually don't make it a habit to get into cars with strangers." She gave him a wry smile.

He let out a laugh. "Frankie Rizzoli," he said. "And by 'usually' do you mean you make exceptions?"

She leaned in closer to him. "Only if the guy's hot." Then she shot him a grin and made herself comfortable in the passenger seat.

######

What the hell was she thinking?! She wasn't usually this brazen with anybody - especially men. She blamed it on moving to a new city. It felt like the start of a new life for her. Maybe now she would actually find the time to date. Or not. Emma was rather happy with the way her life was right now. Man or no man, it felt to her like everything was finally falling into place.

She hoped Frankie had taken her comment as a joke, considering he had said she was beautiful just a moment before. The guy _was_handsome; she wasn't going to deny it. He had these sweet, brown eyes that made her feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

Emma didn't want him to think she was the type of girl with the perfect one liners every time she flirted. Far from it. But there was something about him that made her confident enough to be that girl...and only with him.

She sighed. Man, she must really be tired if she was fantasizing about the guy sent to pick her up. If she didn't get any sleep soon, she would probably start daydreaming about marriage, kids and a white picket fence.

Besides, it wasn't like she would ever be seeing him again. Boston was a big city, and he was one of probably thousands of cops on patrol. The probability of running into him again were very high indeed.

"So where're you from?" Frankie asked, thankfully breaking her from her thoughts.

"Texas."

"Oh yeah? What brings you all the way over here?"

"Dr. Isles, actually," Emma replied. "I just finished my residency as a medical doctor, and I decided to go into forensic pathology to become a medical examiner. Dr. Isles is well known in her field, and I figured I'd take a chance and ask her if I could continue my fellowship under her supervision."

"Fellowship?"

"Just a fancy word for continuing my education," she answered with a smile. "If I'm lucky, I should be done in two years."

"And then you go back to Texas?"

"I...don't know, actually," she said truthfully. "I've been so focused on finally finishing my career that I haven't really thought about the future. Depends if there's anything prompting me to stay, I guess."

"How long have you been at it? Studying, I mean."

"It feels like forever," she said with an over exaggerated sigh. "Don't get me wrong. Some states don't require any degree at all to be a medical examiner. I'm just the overachiever that's really - " She trailed off, trying to find the right word.

"Dedicated? Accomplished?" he said tersely. She noticed the death grip he had on the steering wheel, and she wondered what she had said to make him so tense.

"Um...yeah, I guess you could say that," she answered with a sidelong glance, picking at a hole in her jeans. Her jeans! "Shit!"

"What?" he asked, giving her a quick glance.

"Is there a place we can stop? A gas station or something with a restroom?"

"We're about ten minutes away. Do you really have to go that bad?"

"I need to change," she explained. "I can't meet Dr. Isles in _this_." She swayed her hand over her comfortable travelling clothes - t-shirt, jeans, and a pair of snug boots.

"Well, we're almost there. You can always change at the station."

"I was going to do it at the airport, but you showed up and I completely forgot." Emma looked down at her carry-on bag - the one piece she hadn't placed in the trunk. "Wait, I have my clothes here, in this bag. I didn't want to pack it with the other luggage in case it got misplaced. I can just change right here!"

She turned to the back seat only to find it riddled with things - softballs, bats, gloves, and a blue bag obviously filled with sporting equipment.

"I, uh...I moved all the stuff in my trunk to my back seat to make room for your luggage," he said sheepishly.

"Shit...okay." She bit down on her bottom lip as she decided what to do. Changing at the station was out of the question. She wanted to make a good first impression and that meant being ready _before_getting to the station. There was no other choice. "Don't look."

"Huh? What - whoa! What are you doing?" Frankie exclaimed as she removed her shirt. The car swerved, and he quickly righted it as he forced himself to look at the road. "Are you crazy? You can get arrested for this! Indecent exposure!"

"I'm sorry! I need to change, and I have to do it here. Besides, I'm only 'exposing' if you look." She tilted the seat back to wriggle out of her jeans.

"Fine, just be quick. I'll drive a little slower to give you more time."

"Thanks," she breathed as she pulled on her slacks. She rummaged through her bag and took out her wrinkled, button blouse. Eh, nothing her jacket couldn't hide.

Finally finished dressing, she uprighted her seat and finger-combed her hair until she had it up into a neat ponytail. A pinch of her cheeks for some color and a dab of lip gloss and she was done.

"Okay, I'm ready," she announced. Frankie shot her a quick glance, and she thought she saw an approving look before he looked away. Nah, it was probably just her imagination. "Is there anywhere I can store my luggage? I'm just gonna call a cab after I finish meeting with Dr. Isles."

"I can take you home," he said, stopping the car in front of the station.

"You've done more than enough. Really, thank you for picking me up, but I can't ask for you to wait for me until I get out. I honestly don't know how long I'll be."

He shrugged, getting out of the car and grabbing her bags. "Alright, but if you're out by five, I should still be around."

They made their way into the building and Frankie walked her through security.

"Shepard will keep these safe for you until you get back," Frankie said, pointing to the guard near the door and stashing her luggage under his desk. "It was nice meeting you. I'm sure we'll be running into each other a lot."

_I highly doubt that_, she thought. Only out loud she said, "Nice meeting you, too, and thanks again for the ride."

He threw her a warm smile and a quick nod before disappearing into the cafe nearby.

_This is it. The moment you've been waiting for since Dr. Isles accepted your fellowship._

Then she took a deep breath, smoothed out her clothes one last time and made her way to the elevator to meet her new team.


	2. Chapter 2

Emma let out a low groan as she took a seat at the counter of the Division One Cafe. She didn't think she was going to survive sleeping on the floor for much longer.

"Tough morning?" the waitress asked. She was a middle-aged woman with blue eyes and a kind smile.

"I thought sleeping on the floor was good for your back," Emma replied, wincing slightly as she tried to make herself comfortable on the stool.

"Sleeping on the floor, huh? Is that the newest health craze?"

"I wish," Emma sighed. "I just moved here. My brothers are driving over with all my stuff, but they're still a couple of days away."

"Oh, you're Maura's new assistant!"

"I'm so sorry. How rude of me. I'm Emma," she held out her hand.

The woman shook it warmly. "Angela Rizzoli."

"Rizzoli?" Surely this wasn't a coincidence. That was already three Rizzoli's she had met in the span of two days. "As in - "

"Hey, Ma!"

Emma turned to see Frankie walk into the cafe and head straight for the counter.

"Frankie's and Jane's mom?" Mrs. Rizzoli finished for her. "That's me."

Jane…right. Emma remembered meeting her the day before. Tall, athletic brunette who seemed to be really good friends with Dr. Isles.

"Dr. Carter," Frankie greeted her with a smile and took a seat next to her. "Nice to see you again."

"What a pleasant surprise," Emma replied drolly. Somehow she had a feeling that Frankie knew they would be running into each other a lot.

"You two know each other?" Mrs. Rizzoli asked, leaning over the counter with a curious look in her eyes.

"Not really."

"Yeah, kinda."

They both spoke up at the same time. Emma raised an eyebrow at him, but he just shrugged.

"Well, which is it? Yes or no?" Mrs. Rizzoli prompted, taking a sip of water.

"Frankie was kind enough to pick me up at the airport yesterday," Emma explained. "And a twenty minute ride does not equal 'knowing' me."

"I don't know," Frankie mused. "It was enough for you to get naked."

Emma gasped while Mrs. Rizzoli choked on the water.

"It's not what you think!" Emma quickly told her. She could feel her face burning.

Frankie patted his mother's back as the poor lady was now having a coughing fit. "It's true," he said with an innocent look on his face.

"I didn't...I mean, I did, but it's really, _really _not what you think." Emma felt like she couldn't emphasize that enough. She shot Frankie a glare only to find him pressing his lips together to keep from laughing. He was having entirely too much fun at her expense. "I needed to change for my meeting with Dr. Isles, and Frankie said we were only a few minutes away from the station..."

"So she stripped right in front of me," Frankie supplied.

Emma didn't know why, but she had this _need _to explain herself to the older woman. "It was nothing. Just a quick change in the car...that's it." She narrowed her eyes at him. "Besides, you weren't supposed to look."

"Frankie," Mrs. Rizzoli warned.

"I swear I didn't look, Ma," he said, holding his hands up in defense. "Kept my eyes on the road the whole time."

Emma's phone buzzed, and she looked at it to find a message from Dr. Isles.

"Oh thank God. A dead body." She looked up with a smile, then realized how she had sounded. She covered up her excitement with a quiet cough. "Not that I'm happy someone's dead. I just...it's my first case." _And this is the perfect excuse to leave and stop embarrassing myself_, she silently added.

"It's okay, honey," Mrs. Rizzoli said, patting her arm in understanding. "Duty calls."

"It was nice meeting you, Mrs. Rizzoli."

"Angela, please."

Emma smiled at her, hoping the "changing clothes in the car" debacle hadn't marred her reputation with the woman. She grabbed a quick cup of coffee then made her way out of the cafe.

"I liked your tattoo!" Frankie called out after her.

She froze at the door, mortified that he had just yelled that out in front of everyone in the cafe. She whirled around about to spout off some kind of comeback when her phone rang again.

"You're lucky I have to leave," she weakly retorted, giving him what she hoped was her deadliest glare before marching out.

######

Emma took her time strolling down the sidewalk of her block despite the heavy grocery bags she was carrying. She let out a satisfied sigh, taking in the cool, night air. Her first case was going extremely well. She'd helped Dr. Isles perform the autopsy and even had a hand in identifying the murder weapon. Now it was up to the detectives to do the rest.

As she neared her apartment building, she struggled to adjust the grocery bags in her arms so she could fish for the house keys in her pocket. She glanced up to find someone exiting her building, and she called out to them.

"Hold the door, please! I just need to - " She froze when she saw who it was. "Oh, you've got to be kidding me."

He looked different outside of his uniform. If she weren't so upset with him, she might even admit that he looked even better in jeans and a casual t-shirt which was a little surprising considering he looked very, very good in his uniform.

She groaned. Oh, God, she was doing it again. What was it about Frankie that made her mind wander? She frowned, shaking her head and giving herself a mental slap.

"No way. Dr. Carter?" He frowned playfully. "Are you stalking me?"

"I could ask _you _the same thing," she said with a raised eyebrow.

She could understand running into him at the station, but out in the city? Out of all the apartment buildings in all of Boston, he just _had _to be walking out of hers.

"What are you doing here?"

"I live here," she supplied, with a slight nod to the front door of the building that he was holding open for her.

"102?"

She nodded slowly.

"That apartment's been up for rent a few months already. _I _was actually thinking of renting it since I'm here so much already."

Emma felt a sinking feeling in her stomach. It suddenly occurred to her that Frankie might have a girlfriend. Here she was gawking at him, and the guy was probably in a long-term relationship.

Not that it mattered. It wasn't like she was looking for anything to happen between them. That was just ridiculous. He could be married for all she cared.

Then why did her stomach feel like she had just eaten something that didn't agree with her?

"Visiting your girlfriend?" she asked, her voice coming out a little more bitterly than she intended.

"What? No, I don't have a girlfriend. My sister lives upstairs," he pointed up. "I seriously can't believe _you _ended up renting 102. What a coincidence."

"Yeah...strange," she agreed. Emma suddenly felt...relieved? Like a weight had been lifted off her chest.

"Here let me help you with those," he said, reaching for the grocery bags.

"Thanks, but I can manage." She dodged past him and went into the building.

"Come on." He followed after her. "You're not mad about this morning, are you? It was a joke!"

"It wasn't so funny when I was trying to explain to your mother I wasn't some kind of stripper," she deadpanned, lifting her knee against her apartment door to hold the weight of her bags while she searched for her keys again.

He took the bags from her. "She doesn't think you're a stripper," he assured her as he leaned against the wall. "If it makes you feel any better, she actually really likes you. She got mad at me for teasing you. Smacked the back of my head and everything." He offered her an apologetic smile.

"Serves you right," Emma said, finally finding her keys and opening the door. "You can place the bags on the kitchen counter."

"I...uh, I like what you've done with the place. Going for the minimalist look, I see," Frankie quipped as he looked around her empty apartment.

She rolled her eyes at him. "My things should be getting here in a couple of days, hopefully."

She took off her jacket, and then followed him into the kitchen to start putting away her groceries. He helped her by handing things off to her, while she put them away.

"_This _is what you eat?" he asked, holding up boxes of frozen t.v. dinners.

"Don't judge," she said, taking the boxes from him and putting them in her freezer. "I don't always have time to cook and this makes for a quick meal."

He leaned back against the counter and crossed his arms over his chest. "How 'bout I make this morning up to you?"

Emma stuffed the recycled bags into one of the cabinets and then went back into the fridge to take out a couple of beers. She offered him one, and he took it, opened it, then handed it back to her before taking the other one for himself. Huh. She'd never had anybody do that for her. Usually the guy took the beer and then settled himself on the couch. Frankie was just filled with surprises.

"And how are you planning on doing that?" she asked skeptically.

"A home cooked meal."

"You cook?" Emma scoffed.

"Not very well," he admitted. "According to my sister, burned toast and boiled water is not cooking." He chuckled softly, and she couldn't help but smile in response. "But my mom makes a great lasagna. Why don't you have dinner with us tomorrow night?"

Emma narrowed her eyes at him, wondering if she wasn't being set up for another embarrassment. After a few seconds, she finally nodded and held up her bottle.

"Truce?"

He clinked it with his own. "Truce." He settled back against the counter, taking a swig of his beer. "So what made you decide to become a medical examiner?"

"The first patient that died on me also happened to be the victim of a brutal stabbing," she said quietly, fidgeting with the label on her beer bottle. "I was doing my residency in the emergency room, and this woman gets rushed in. Multiple stab wounds, going into shock from the loss of blood. She had this look in her eyes...I'll never forget it. _Help_. I tried so hard to save her, but it was too late." Emma took a deep breath and placed her beer back on the counter. "It took me a while to realize that even though she was dead, she still had a voice. That I _could _help her...by catching the bastard that did that to her."

"So your tattoo?" He pointed to her ribcage. "Is that why you got it?"

"'While I breathe, I hope'," she recited. "That's exactly why I got it." Then she punched his arm. "I thought you didn't look."

"It's not every day a beautiful woman takes her clothes off in front of me. I couldn't help it."

Emma rolled her eyes at him again and shook her head. Her watch suddenly chimed the hour. "Shit. I didn't realize how late it was."

"Yeah, I should go," Frankie said, and she walked him to the door. "Thanks for the beer, and don't forget dinner tomorrow. I'll come by around seven to pick you up."

"I'll be ready," she assured him.

She closed the door behind him, and then leaned against it with a silly grin on her face. And when she finally went to bed, the thought of sleeping on the floor was the farthest thing from her mind. Instead, as she curled an arm under her head to use as a pillow, all she could think about were eyes the color of aged whisky and a warm smile that sent shivers down her spine.


End file.
